


Follow My Lead

by Inell



Series: Teeny Fic Challenge [34]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Laura Hale, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, BAMF Stiles, Banter, Bonding, But similar dynamic, Dead Talia Hale, Derek is a Bit Controlled by his wolf, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Implied Sexual Content, In a way, Magical Stiles Stilinski, No Incest, Not Really Mates, Pack Bonding, Pack Feels, Peter Loves His Nieces and Nephew, Stiles is Hale Bait, Stiles smells really good, Talia Hale is Not a Good Alpha, Werewolf Mates, Wolf Instincts, mention of murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 17:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10167662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Peter can’t quite figure out what’s so appealing about the young agent questioning them about his sister’s murder, but he does know that Agent Stilinski is more than he seems.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cobrilee (bstevens1021)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Cobrilee+%28bstevens1021%29).



> cobrilee said: Stiles/Laura/Cora/Derek/Peter
> 
> I really had a lot of fun writing this one, bb! I hope you enjoy it! Teeny Fic #34
> 
> I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood  
> I know I could, always be good  
> To one who'll watch over me  
> Someone to Watch Over Me by Ella Fitzgerald

 

Agent Stilinski is focused, serious, and very young. There’s a keen intelligence in his brown eyes that gives one the illusion that he’s able to read minds. Of course, mind reading is very rare, and those with that particular trait usually go crazy before reaching their twenties, so Peter doubts the delicious man in front of him has that ability. It’s a shame, really, because Peter’s mind is full of images he’d enjoy sharing with the agent. He supposes that means he’ll just have to provide live demonstrations at some point in the near future.

A difficult task, certainly, but one that he’ll accept without protest.

The sweet scent of arousal clings to Agent Stilinski like a heady perfume, and Peter’s finding it slightly difficult to remain disinterested in the questioning when he’s considering breaking many protocols by burying his nose against that graceful neck. There’s a spicy scent of magic melding with the arousal, which just makes the aroma more intoxicating. Peter can see that his nieces and nephews also notice, the three children barely remaining in control of themselves as the agent moves amongst them; oblivious to the instincts they’re all fighting at the moment.

“When did you last speak with your mother?” Agent Stilinski—call me Stiles—is asking Laura. Peter watches the way she leans in closer, playing timid and upset, and he can’t resist giving her a satisfied nod because her performance is very well done. The agent doesn’t look as gullible as most of the moronic people in this world, however, so Peter’s not sure if she’s selling the image she’s projecting. He’s intrigued at the possibility that this young man is hardened to a beautiful woman with tears in her eyes, something that would make many of his colleagues fold without hesitation.

“Last week,” Laura says, subtly scenting the air as she moves closer to Stiles. “We met for lunch, and she told me about her plans to take a trip to the corporate office in Montreal next month.”

“Did she mention any problems or concerns?” Stiles asks, glancing at Peter when he asks the question instead of giving Laura his undivided attention. Curious and curiouser.

“Not that I remember. She was talking about a man she’d recently met, someone she’d started dating,” Laura tells him, not even having to lie because it’s the truth. Laura came home from that lunch and informed the family that Talia was dating Deucalion, which confirmed the rumor that Peter had heard regarding a power play that put the family members he actually cared about at risk.

“Right. You mentioned that earlier. A man named Duke that she never identified fully.” Stiles arches a brow as he makes a few notes on the pad he’s holding, and Peter takes an involuntary step forward because the look is suspicious. His movement causes Stiles to look at him intently. “Did you have something to add, Mr. Hale?”

“What would I have to add about my sister’s new beau?” Peter scoffs. “I never met the man nor did she deem it necessary to inform me of her romantic entanglements. When she and Joseph divorced, I chose his side, so my sister considers me persona non grata after that.” His lips quirk. “Of course, that could be one reason I chose the opposing side, but I’ll never tell.”

“My father is a good man. She kept him from us since they divorced, but he still tries,” Cora says, pacing behind Stiles and scenting the air near him. “My mother was a ruthless bitch who only cared about power and control. I’m sure there are any number of people who would have loved to see her dead.”

“Are you one of them?” Stiles asks bluntly, giving Cora a calm look despite the fact that she’s prowling behind him and could easily attack. His heartbeat doesn’t even blip, which makes Peter even more attracted to him. He does love the tough boys who play hard and don’t back down.

“Cora didn’t kill my mother.” Derek shakes his head. His fingers are curled into his palm, the bitter scent of blood evident as Peter sways in his direction. He’s the closest to losing control, his wolf likely whispering in his ear to pounce, to take, to claim. Peter loves his nephew, but the boy isn’t used to keeping a tight grip on his primal lust because his wolf is more docile and passive than most Hales. This is one of the few times that Peter can recall seeing the wolf so very close to the surface. Derek looks up at Stiles, and the scent of arousal thickens in the air. “She might have been a terrible person, but she was still our al—mother.”

“Derek, you seem upset,” Peter says smoothly, walking over and squeezing Derek’s shoulder. “Perhaps you need a break from questioning?”

“Talia Hale was found last night cut in half and beheaded.” Stiles’ voice is slightly frustrated, obviously not liking Peter interrupting his game. Because that’s what this is, Peter’s decided. It’s a game. He looks at Stiles and arches a brow, calling him out silently in case he’s incorrect. Not that Peter’s ever wrong. Not when it really matters. “We need to finish this interview so that the investigation can move forward.”

“Your consideration for her family’s grief is commendable, Agent Stilinski. Very sensitive,” Laura mutters dryly, standing up and walking over to Derek’s other side. “My brother is fragile at the moment, as you can see, which means it’s best if you leave while you have the opportunity.”

“I’m not fragile, Laura.” Derek’s voice is low, almost a growl, and he’s shifting in his seat restlessly. Stiles moves closer instead of stepping away, and Peter watches him carefully.

“Who is your new alpha?” Stiles asks firmly, his use of the familiar term surprising the others but confirming Peter’s suspicions. Too knowledgeable of his behavior, playing them all, the scent of magic, the lingering smell of wolfsbane.

Peter moves quickly, his claws around Stiles’ neck, Cora moving up behind Stiles and gripping his shoulder. “Who are you _really_ , Agent Stilinski?”

“What’s the fun in me simply telling you, Peter?” Stiles actually grins at him, as if he’s not trapped between two volatile werewolves. Peter and Cora are the dangerous ones, the ones not afraid of killing to protect their own. Derek’s the heart, the guiding virtue and morals they all need at times, and Laura is the leader, the natural balance between all of them that even Peter can respect. “I prefer to make you work for it.”

“The only thing he’s going to work for is how deep he digs the grave to hide your body when we kill you,” Laura threatens, carding her fingers through Derek’s hair as he growls softly.

“You can’t kill me,” Stiles says, sounding amused that she even threatened it. “Not without putting Derek at risk. Not without putting _all of you_ at risk.” He reaches up and drags his fingers over Peter’s hand, the touch teasing and sensual in a way that makes Peter inhale sharply. “Do you know who I am yet?”

“You smell so good,” Derek whispers, lisping slightly because his fangs have dropped. In any other situation, Peter would be laughing at him because he sounds ridiculous, but laughing isn’t on his mind at the moment. “Like ours.”

“You’re not our mate,” Laura tells him. “That’s an old wives’ tale, and none of them include bonding to an entire pack. Did you do something? Is this your fault?”

“I’d heard rumors that Talia Hale was a loose cannon who hungered for power more than knowledge, that put control above family, but I honestly hadn’t realized how little she actually taught her pack,” Stiles says, shoving Peter’s hand away from his neck and spinning out of Cora’s grip easily.

“He’s not a mate,” Peter says confidently, reaching out to stroke the back of Cora’s neck to calm her wolf. “He _is_ playing with fire, however, so he needs to explain himself before he gets burned.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Peter. You’re usually much wittier than that.” Stiles smiles slyly, his eyes looking almost gold in the light. Peter narrows his eyes, which seems to make his smile widen. “Oh, yes. I’ve been watching you for days. Your entire little pack has kept me quite entertained. You’re all so beautiful and strong, yet weak in ways that are fascinating. Obviously, I know my place here, but you’ll have to figure it out, I suppose.”

“Are you even really a FBI agent?” Cora asks, leaning into Peter’s side. She’s watching Stiles like he’s prey, but she’s behaving like he’s the predator. Baring her neck to him. Peter quickly looks at Laura and sees her giving Stiles a similar look, like she’s watching for his move. Derek’s worthless, his wolf reacting to whatever Stiles is to them in a way that none of the others have. Like he can’t keep waiting for much longer before falling at Stiles’ feet and doing whatever he’s told.

“Yes, I am,” Stiles says, shrugging when Peter scoffs. “I made sure that I was assigned the Talia Hale case, of course, but I’ve been an agent with the FBI for nearly six years now. I’m based in San Francisco, which is why your lovely little town piqued my interest when I checked out the supernatural threats in the area after I got assigned to this unit last year.”

“Whose pack do you belong to?” Laura takes a step closer to him. “You know us, know too much to be unaffiliated, so you must be part of a pack. Where are you from?”

“You know the answer to that already, lovely Laura.” Stiles answers her in a sing-song voice that makes Peter roll his eyes. “But I’ll give you one tidbit of information because you’re asking so nicely. I used to be part of the McCall pack down in San Diego, but I never _belonged_ to them.”

“He’s ours,” Derek says firmly, pushing himself out of the chair. “That’s why he smells so good. That’s why he’s here. He’s ours, and we’re his.”

“Clever boy,” Stiles praises, lips curling gently when Derek radiates happiness at the compliment. He reaches out, and Derek quickly moves to him, leaning into his touch and growling softly. There’s a tension in the air that snaps suddenly, a warmth rushing through Peter that makes him tremble. His skin is tingling, his wolf pressing against the surface, and then he’s moving forward, leaning into Stiles’ hand, rubbing against him and scenting him and accepting him.

He feels Cora against his arm, pressing against Stiles, Derek a warm presence against his chest. Lips press against his, sparks of magic shimmering in the air, and then Peter’s falling back, breathing in deep, ragged breaths, arousal making him shake. “ _Emissary_ ,” he gasps, remembering the stories his parents used to tell him, before they were killed, before Talia took their power and became his guardian, before she showed him her true colors. Stories of strong packs that were envied by all, balanced by a powerful emissary that mated with the pack, magic protecting and shielding, the goal packs used to have before emissaries became things to control and began hiding from power hungry packs.

“ _Ours_ ,” Laura growls, her eyes flashing red as she takes Stiles’ hand. Peter watches Stiles kiss her, watches Stiles touch her, watches Stiles finally— _finally_ —bite her neck, watches the exchange in power and can’t help touching himself, can’t stop himself from writhing on the floor desperately, the bonding urge impossible to resist.

“Yours,” Stiles vows, another wave of power running through all of them as he seals the bond. The magical seal, at least. If rumors are to be believed, the physical bond will be next. Peter hopes the rumors are true. He _wants_ so desperately that his wolf is sharing control already. “When I felt the call, I knew Talia wasn’t ever going to be _my_ alpha.” He starts unfastening his tie, smiling at them as Peter watches him intently.

“She did it.” Peter remembers Talia sitting beside him when their parents told the old stories, always eager to hear more about the powerful magic that emissaries could bring a pack. “She summoned you, didn’t she?”

“She attempted to, but she failed.” Stiles slides the tie off his neck and leans down to kiss Derek, licking into his mouth and stroking his face gently. He rubs his face against Derek’s beard before moving down his neck, his hands moving lower, too, stroking and touching, making Derek whine as Stiles bites him. When he pulls back, he looks at Peter and smiles. “Deucalion promised her things he had no knowledge of, which is dangerous. It can lead to all kinds of terrible accidents. But don’t worry. He won’t be making any further errors in judgment.”

“You killed him?” Cora is on her knees now, her t-shirt discarded and her hair disheveled. She crawls to Stiles, biting at his bottom lip before kissing him. Peter watches Stiles as Cora touches him, feeling his fingers itch because he hasn’t been able to touch yet. Not like that. When Stiles bites her, she shudders, and Peter licks his lips.

It’s his turn next.

“Of course I did. He was a threat, and I’ll do anything to protect what I consider mine,” Stiles says matter-of-factly, his smile wicked and arousing. “And I chose _you_ to be my pack. So the four of you are mine.”

Peter pushes himself off the floor when Stiles approaches him, returning his kiss eagerly, moving his hands everywhere he can reach. When Stiles pulls away, there’s a small smile on his lips that Peter can’t help returning. “Did you make her suffer?” he asks, knowing without a doubt that he’s looking into the eyes of Talia’s killer.

“I made her scream,” Stiles breathes out, eyes flashing a molten gold that has Peter baring his neck with a hungry growl. “And beg.” He licks the curve of Peter’s neck as fingers brush through Peter’s hair. Laura is behind him, touching his hair, and Derek’s there, too, pressed against his back, stroking his spine in a soothing way. Cora’s hands are on his leg, her thumb drawing designs on his thigh the way she has since she was a little girl. “And regret _ever_ hurting any of you.” Stiles bites him then, moving his longer fingers down Peter’s chest, stroking him through his jeans.

When Peter stops shuddering, he can feel the bond between him and Stiles, between him and his pack. Strong and stable and comforting in a way he hasn’t felt since his parents were alive. Laura flashes red eyes at them, her smile wolfish as she proceeds to shove Stiles onto his back and climb over him. Peter returns her grin, letting his wolf out completely, following her lead as he moves forward to help his pack welcome their new emissary _their_ way.

 


End file.
